Pacing
by Imhereforthestory
Summary: Pacing. Up-down-around, up-down-around.  Realising what she was doing, she perched on the edge of the couch, back straight, hands demurely in her lap. Before she could stop it, a lone tear escaped and fell, splashing onto the emerald silk of her gown.


**Author's Note:** For any of you who have read my profile, I profess that I am not a writer. I stand by that statement. Basically, this has been uploaded due to my inability to say no to a certain person in my life – yes, you know who you are and while I love you, I also hate you a little bit right now... _This is for you._

To Everyone at The Old Haunt, _especially the F5 & our other M_ - words cannot express - seriously_._

Please, please, please understand - this is a one shot. And honestly, it is likely my _one and done_.

**Disclaimer:** Yeah_No_…

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><p>Pacing. Up-down-around, up-down-around. Lather, rinse, repeat. Realising what she was doing, she perched on the edge of the couch, back straight, hands demurely in her lap. Before she could stop it, a lone tear escaped and fell, splashing onto the emerald green silk of her gown. This was so much harder than she had expected.<p>

Things had been going so well. They had been talking, teasing and laughing, just like old times. He didn't look so tired anymore and that look was back in his eyes, the one that said she was his whole world. It had been so long since he had given her that look, and she honestly didn't think she could stand to lose it again.

They had been having dinner together regularly. Watching movies and walking for hours, talking about nothing, just content to spend time together. Falling into a pattern neither of them had expected to be so easy. They had even visited her mother and she had never thought they would be able to do that together, as it was just…still too painful.

And then the moment had come. The moment she was dreading with her entire being – her whole existence screamed at her to just _let it be. _But she couldn't. While she knew it was the right thing to do, she had procrastinated. She had kept putting it off. Spoken to Dr Burke about it and listened to his advice. He really was an intelligent man, and he had told her to do it. Just get it out. Rip it off like a Band-Aid, as the longer she picked at it, the more it would hurt and that hurt would linger, just like the festering wound underneath. But listening to him and acting on his advice were two completely different things, she knew that now. Every time she had tried to rip the Band-Aid off, something had happened, gotten in the way or distracted her. It didn't help that her fridge was the cleanest it had ever been – no Styrofoam temple in sight, her apartment sparkled and she had absolutely no paperwork on her desk for the first time in months.

Her heart in her throat, she had broached the subject only six weeks ago. It was not too late, certainly; but definitely not early enough that they would have time to dwell on it. Her on him and him on _it_ -the elephant in the room. So big that it wouldn't even fit into the loft.

She had suggested dinner at her place, knowing it was quiet and they would be unlikely to be disturbed. Offering to cook one of her Mother's favourites, understanding he would not deny her. Heart racing, she had welcomed him in that night, while he smiled and told her how good everything smelled. He was just so happy to be there, to be invited, and she couldn't remember ever feeling so guilty. It had tainted the evening for her, festering like the sore under the Band-Aid.

They had eaten, and he had complimented her on her cooking, which she passed off as learned expertise. He had smiled at that and she had felt a fluttering of hope. Surely it would be OK…_It had to be._ As they sat down on the couch, shoulders touching, she again felt the butterflies that had taken up residence in her stomach. Would she ever be able to do this?

Her spine stiffened suddenly, and that determination, OK some would call it stubbornness, that had served her so well throughout her troubled existence flared to life. She could get through this. _They_ would get through this. After a deep steadying breath, she revealed her secret and the look on his face took her breath away.

Surprise and shock graced his features; closely followed by hurt, disappointment and confusion. The words "how long have you known?" were the only ones he uttered that night, before he left into the darkness, leaving her with her thoughts, and the grief that she would do this to him. To someone she _loved_.

He had come back, apologetic but wary, asking questions. Questions she could answer, but was hesitant to do so, in fear of making everything so much worse. They had talked, quietly and calmly. No recriminations, no yelling or accusations and somehow that just made it worse. That she could ask this of him - ask him to forgive her, and then for him to do so. Even seem glad to do it _for her._

They had gotten past that night, both seemingly unscathed, but under the surface the tension was brewing – she could feel it. They had continued with their dinners, and their outings, however the walks were a bit quieter, and there was less time spent just being _together_. She knew it would come to a head, could pinpoint when it would happen even, though she hoped she was wrong.

She wasn't.

He had come over to see her, dressed impeccably and looking so handsome in his suit. She already had tears in her eyes, and seeing him made it so much harder to keep them from falling. He had told her she looked beautiful… and she believed him. How could she not when she could see the love shining out of his eyes. The love that didn't quite cover the hesitation or the uncertainty he was feeling.

They had some time, and while they were waiting she could see his unease grow. By the minute it swelled and swelled until she felt like she couldn't breathe, couldn't move. Eventually he looked at her and she knew. He couldn't do this. He couldn't do this _with her_. She hugged him to her as tightly as she could, hoping her strength would pass through her to him. When she spoke, she told him everything would be alright and that they could get past this. He knew better, and to his credit he didn't pretend, he told her so –straight up. He left fairly quickly after that, and that was when the pacing had started…

Wiping the lone tear away, she shot up from her place on the couch as she heard a loud knock on the door. Her heart started to race and she actually believed, just for a second, it might be him. That he might have changed his mind and found the strength to do this. As she opened the door, her shoulders fell just a little, before her back straightened again, and a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, graced her features.

"Come in"

Rick walked through the door, a pensive smile on his face. Knowing something was wrong, something she wasn't telling him. She had been anxious all day at the precinct, however wouldn't talk to him about it, deflecting him when he tried to discuss it. He had decided to leave it alone, just for now, knowing tonight was going to be difficult enough for her as it was.

Seeing her apprehension, feeling the hidden sadness in her greeting was too much - he couldn't help it. He reached for her and enveloped her in his arms, just holding her while she took some deep shuddering breaths, trying to hold it together. When she had gained a little control, she stepped back, looking at him and he noticed the smile had finally started to reflect through her eyes, those beautiful eyes he knew he would never, _could never_, forget.

"Do you want to tell me?"

As he asked her the question that she had been avoiding all day, gently and with love in his voice she still didn't feel she deserved, she realised _yet again_ how extremely lucky she was to have this man in her life. Her rock. Her partner. Her _everything_.

He had been so excited in setting up this benefit with her. This fundraiser for her mother, and the scholarship he had instigated, while being so considerate of her feelings - both their feelings. Her's and her Dad's. She was so worried that he was going to be disappointed in her, in both of them, really. Her for not being strong enough for her father to lean on, to be able to convince him this was a good step, a step in the right direction. A step in loving and letting go, in remembrance and _honouring_ memories - for both their sakes and the ones they love. And her father, for not finding it within himself to attend with them, with all of them, her family…

She took a deep breath in, steadying herself. Looking directly into his blue eyes, into his soul, she said the words she had tried so hard, so desperately to avoid.

"He's not coming"

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><p>Rick stepped towards her again, expecting her to retreat. He had barely believed it when she let his hands cup her face, thumbs brushing her cheek bones. The distress and anguish she was feeling radiating out of her. Deeply, reverently and unflinchingly he spoke.<p>

"I understand."

Rick felt her move. Gaze unflinching, he held her so she could not look away, could not put _that_ distance between them.

"And so do you."

Kate sagged in relief. He wasn't disappointed – in either of them. She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him. Tighter than she ever had, trying to convey the relief she felt in his acceptance. His hands moved in gentle circles across her back, and with her ear pressed against his chest, she felt his voice as he continued.

"You wanted him to come tonight, we both did. This is for her, to acknowledge her work and her life, and it was important to you that he be there – be part of tonight. Kate, she was your Mom and no one can ever replace her, but she was his Wife too. _His_ one and done, and he still misses her every day. Her death threw him into a tailspin only _you_ could pull him out of, and he is afraid that this might send him spinning again. You were the one who told me it was a risk even asking him in the first place. But he tried Kate, he really, really did. I know he wanted to go, for you. _Both of you._"

Kate burrowed further into his chest, wanting him to keep talking, keep holding her just a little bit longer. She knew they had to leave soon, but she couldn't, _wouldn't_, let go just yet.

"How do you know?" she asked

"Because he told me…" he whispered as he held her.

"When?" she murmured, her fingers creeping under his jacket, exploring his back.

He swallowed audibly before continuing. "After you had him for dinner and asked him to come, he called me and wanted to meet. We discussed the benefit, and what it meant to you, what it would have meant to your Mom. Kate, he wanted to attend _so_ badly, for both of you, but it was hard for him. I could tell."

Kate heard his words, and the sincerity in his voice. She lifted her head, pushed up on her toes and pressed her cheek to his. She wanted to let him know that she was OK, that he had made it OK.

"Thank You," she sighed

Rick felt her breath wash over his ear. If he turned his head, he could kiss her. Just a little to the left…he felt her move and made the split second decision to let his lips brush hers, or let her lips brush his. He knew now was not the time, but he loved her so much; would _always_ love her.

Kate felt a jolt of electricity shoot through her. It wasn't even a kiss, not really. Just a whisper, barely a had no right to react that way. She already knew he loved her, and that he was trying to comfort her. She also knew she wanted him to. At that thought, her eyes widened as the realisation that had been hovering in her subconscious became totally, absolutely and determinedly apparent. _She loved him too. What was she waiting for?_

She honestly didn't know anymore. He had proven himself over and over during the past four years. He was her rock – with her when she allowed it, and always a presence even when she didn't. He was her partner - building theory at the precinct and always having her back. He was her everything – making her laugh when she needed it, and standing beside her when she couldn't. Feeding her, making sure she slept, and supplying her with coffee. Kate knew she couldn't hesitate anymore. She wouldn't. He was her one and done. Her _always_…

That was the catalyst she needed.

Kate ran her hands along his lower back, skimming her fingertips along the waistband of his pants, and stopping at his hips. She let her fingertips linger, and felt his arms tighten around her; then he suddenly let go, taking his warmth with him. She could feel the restraint in him; practically see him humming with it. He was holding himself in check, _for her_. She didn't want him to hold anything back anymore. _They_ weren't going to hold back anymore.

Rick was stunned. When had this moved away from him comforting her? _Had it?_ Thinking that his overactive imagination had gotten the better of him, he dropped his arms, even though it just about killed him. She was so responsive, so open, so who he imagined his Kate to be, that he didn't want to let go.

"We should go," he stated hesitantly.

She held on tight to his hips, keeping him in place. They had a few more minutes for this, _for them_. When he stopped trying to pull away, she nuzzled her face into his neck, lightly kissing the pulse she could feel under her lips. His arms lifted again, and he tentatively ran his hands down her arms, moving to the green silk of her gown and settling in the small of her back. She moved her mouth up to his ear, pulling his lobe into her mouth and grazing it with her teeth.

When she nipped his ear, then soothed the sting with her tongue, he pulled his arms tight. Her body was flush against his, and the exhale of her breath against damp skin was his undoing. He started kissing her, in the hollow of her cheek, along her jaw, and stopped to hover at the corner of her mouth. He brushed her lips lightly with his, teasing her with a whisper of a caress.

Kate wanted more. She wanted him, _all of him_, to know that they were in this together. Running her hands along his waistband, she felt him inhale sharply; she dragged them lightly up his chest to link round his neck and pull his head towards hers.

"_Kiss me, Rick…"_

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><p>OK, so that's all folks…<p>

**Last but certainly not least** - I just want to also add a sincere thanks to demuredemeanor – she knows why, and I will appreciate it always.


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